ce of his wife. That last was a small thought, a petty thought,
worthy of a smaller mind than Julia's; but she was a woman, and
passionate, and the charms of such a revenge in the general, came home
to her. It would show him that others valued what he had cast away; it
would convince him--she hoped, him I yet, alas! she doubted--that she
had taken his suit as lightly as he had meant it. It would give her a
home, a place, a settled position in the world.

She followed it no farther; perhaps because she would act on impulse
rather than on reason, blindly rather than on foresight. In haste, with
trembling fingers, she set a chair below the broken, frayed end of a
bell-rope that hung on the wall. Reaching it, as if she feared her
resolution might fail before the event, she pulled and pulled
frantically, until hurrying footsteps came along the passage, and Mrs.
Olney with a foolish face of alarm entered the room.

'Fetch--tell the gentleman to come back,' Julia cried, breathing
quickly.

'To come back?'

'Yes! The gentleman who was here now.'

'Oh, yes, the gentleman,' Mrs. Olney murmured. 'Your ladyship wishes
him?'

Julia's very brow turned crimson; but her resolution held. 'Yes, I wish
to see him,' she said imperiously. 'Tell him to come to me!'

She stood erect, panting and defiant, her eyes on the door while the
woman went to do her bidding--waited erect, refusing to think, her face
set hard, until far down the outer passage--Mrs. Olney had left the door
open--the sound of shuffling feet and a shrill prattle of words heralded
Lord Almeric's return. Presently he came tripping in with a smirk and a
bow, the inevitable little hat under his arm. Before he had recovered
the breath the ascent of the stairs had cost him, he was in an attitude
that made the best of his white silk stockings.

'See at your feet the most obedient of your slaves, ma'am!' he cried.
'To hear was to obey, to obey was to fly! If it's Pitt's diamond you
need, or Lady Mary's soap-box, or a new conundrum, or--hang it all! I
cannot think of anything else, but command me! I'll forth and get it,
stap me if I won't!'

'My lord, it is nothing of that kind,' Julia answered, her voice steady,
though her cheeks burned.

'Eh? what? It's not!' he babbled. 'Then what is it? Command me, whatever
it is.'

'I believe, my lord,' she said, smiling faintly, 'that a woman is always
privileged to change her mind--once.'

My lord stared. Then, gathering her m